Revelation Again

I am not of a mind
to be freed of the dream;
and to wander down the streets
headless.

Who would recognize me
if my face had been secreted
and my voice had been taken
to some echoing canyon?

Oh, we have been walking too long
without visages
or kind eyes.
I could not keep my voice
if it did not have songs.
I could not keep my eyes
without light.

You are drunk they say!
Ah, yes, taken with delusion
and delighting in it.

You are mad they say!
Ah, mad with that swooping sense
of recognition of reality;
its tiniest parts
its most obscure details.

Solomon thought it
as he stared at the temple walls.
How the soft arms of Bathsheba awaited
and all those wives sang
of yearnings
and smiled.

Aristotle Versus Plato

With a mouth full of cock she thought
how St. John wrestled with the horsemen at Patmos
how there is no civilization in the lion plain;
only life
and how Michelangelo quickly realized
that the Sistine Chapel was a mistake
that the dawn is always enough
and the voice of the rooster
can be heard anywhere.

And back before the universe was a dot
after there was a great rush of fire
and methane
and meteors dropped like dead sparrows
to the barren earth,
in some slime-gifted pool
jelly crawled from the guts of the sea
to bring the first taste of salt
to the land.